


Request Of A Blind Man

by SpitfireRose



Series: Snapshots In Time [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Game Spoilers, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 03:43:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12832581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpitfireRose/pseuds/SpitfireRose
Summary: Ignis makes a request of Noct.





	Request Of A Blind Man

**Author's Note:**

> 'Request “can I lay my head in your lap” ignis please' by terrible enabler, Pixie. You'll want tissues, dear.

The whimper of his name is no more than a whisper in the cold, sterile hospital room, a soft cry amongst the relatively steady shrill beeping of medical equipment. Noct detests the disruptive sound more than anything, yet is grateful to hear the assurance of vitals that the Advisor is well despite the bandages covering much of his face. His pulse has gotten faster over the past twenty minutes, Prince too afraid to touch Ignis in fear of frightening the sleeping blind man. Scarring him more than his incompetence already has.

“Iggy, hey, it’s okay-” His hand hovers over a gauzed one that twitches, trying to move as if in search for something. Someone. Ignis doesn’t hear him, might not be able to to begin with.

Noct wishes Prompto was here. He’s a natural at comforting despite claiming to not know what he’s doing. But no, it’s just him. A useless Prince who couldn’t protect cherished loved ones that sacrificed everything so he could live. Luna’s gone, his only wish to save her stolen away by Ardyn’s hand. Iggy’s sight might as well be, and he knows once the medication’s worn off that the Advisor’ll ask how Noct’s holding up first, as if he didn’t just _almost die on the operating table._

“ _N-Noct..?”_ Iggy finally gasps awake, no thanks to him, head tilting to the side at the telltale sniffle. It’s cruel and he’s horrible for thinking it, but thank the Gods that Ignis can’t see him cry. “ _You. You’re-You’re here, yes?”_

He nods without thinking it through, only concerned that speaking’s sure to give his tears away.

 _“W-Where is he? Where’s Noct?”_ The heart monitor begins to race, and it’s only a matter of seconds before the nurses start pouring in like at the start with even more sedatives like Gladio’s warned him of.

“I-I-I’m here.” Six, is he a fucking idiot, thrusting his hand in Iggy’s who jumps at the unannounced touch. “I’m right here, Ignis.”

He can’t clench his hand around Noct’s, but he tries anyway, attempting to move the other with no success and is clearly upset by the frown on stitched lips.

“ _Al-Alright? Can’t. Can’t see you.”_

He fights against his body’s urge to bite his tongue and nod, settles for gently squeezing with loose fingers.

“Y-Yeah. I-I’m fine.” _Was in a coma for a week and wish I never woke up._

 _“s’good. Relief to hear._ ” Noct wishes it wasn’t, hates how Ignis relaxes like everything’s okay because he’s okay and not himself. “ _N-Noct? Might I make a re-request?”_

He hopes it’s a resignation, he prays Ignis will abandon him like he deserves before he really does gets him killed. Catching himself nodding, he says ‘anything’ because he really would no matter what.

_“Can I--May I lay my head in your lap?”_

How Noct doesn’t burst into tears, he’ll never know. It’s a slow process, trying not to jostle him too much with the plethora of wiring and mummified state, wincing at every flinch of physical contact and chastises himself for not warning Ignis first. The nurses and doctors can all yell at him later as he cautiously sets the pillow aside in favor of sitting on the edge in its’ place. He doesn’t care because it’s worth more than anything when he looks down.

Ignis smiles.

He presses a kiss to the thick bandages on his forehead, grateful Ignis won’t feel the tears spilling down and soaking into the top layer. Noct carefully drapes his free arm around his childhood friend, holds him as close as the injuries will allow. It’s quiet and muffled, laced with oncoming sleep, and he feels trembling fingers try once again to hold his hand.

“ _Thank you.”_


End file.
